


The little things

by Honey_bee15



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock Series 4 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 18:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_bee15/pseuds/Honey_bee15
Summary: Sherlock struggles with how to tell John he loves him





	The little things

**Author's Note:**

> This is after the events of season 4 so if you aren't caught up, then spoiler warning but hope you enjoy MC

_Sherlock was remarkable, he had figured out with just the ring on the mans hand that he was unhappily married and had wanted a divorce with his wife, and had further deduced that he was the one that killed her by pointing out the seemingly unnoticeable blood pattern across his forefinger._

John yawned, shutting his laptop. He didn't know why he was still blogging about Sherlock, it's been 4, almost 5 years since he's been doing cases with him he shouldn't be at all surprised anymore. He smiled to himself, remembering some of his and Sherlock's misadventures.

His smile faded slightly, remembering the incident with Mary. He still hasn't forgiving Sherlock, not completely and he sure was not ever going to forget. He shook his head and stood up, stretching, almost completely forgetting that it was pitch black in the flat; only a dim light coming from the Television. John knew he couldn't go home now. Hell, he didn't want to at this point. One, he was planning on moving back in with Sherlock in the first place since Mary was gone. He'd already had his and some of Rosie's stuff stacked near the doorway to the kitchen. Two, he couldn't leave Sherlock alone while he was high, he'd probably wake the whole street. That and, though he wouldn't admit, he missed him. He glanced to the bedroom door; not a sound came out of it. It was strange, usually when Sherlock was high he was jumping around, yelling, shooting his gun and throwing things around but none of that was happening. Maybe he was sleeping? It seemed unlikely, it was only 11pm and he was usually still awake at the time. He shook his head clear of thoughts as he turned the doorknob and walked in. Sherlock was there, sitting in one of the chairs and hands to his mouth. He looked amazing, considering he was high.

"Ah, hello John. Finally getting to bed so late at night?"

His voice sounded a bit strict, like he was worried about him, bit he had a teasing smile etched on his face and John chuckled.

"Come on, it's not like you don't go to bed this late, let's see almost every night."

Sherlock's smile widened. "Yes, but I'm used to it, I don't get tired I don't need the sleep-but you do."

His smile faded to that of a somewhat serious face, his finger pointed to the bed, the covers already pulled down on what would be johns side. John sighed, knowing he probably shouldn't argue, he was too tired for it anyway. He slid off his shoes and socks, pulling his striped button down shirt off, revealing a white tan top then continued to unbuckle and slide off his pants, throwing all his clothes near the bedroom door. Sherlock unknowingly licked his lips, watching Johns every move, he couldn't help it. Is was almost like drugs to him. He grunted pushing the thought out of his mind. He couldn't tell John, or even give him signs about he way he was thinking about him, it wasn't the right time, john would be overwhelmed. He wanted to tell him but he didn't know how to do it, he hadn't gone to anyone for help because he didn't want other people to know that he liked John, not that people had assumed that he and john were gay. It was more pushed on John though, he didn't know why. Everyone called him gay or assumed it but no one has ever told him that he was gay. He blinked pulling himself out of his thoughts whereJohn looked up after he had thrown the clothes to the ground, taking a long sip from the water by the bed before crawling into his bed, glad to finally get some sleep. Sherlock Sensed this from him, trying desperately not to wake him as he climbed into bed himself. Johns back was facing him, the rise and fall of john and Sherlock's chest were the only thing moving in the bedroom. Sherlock took a deep breath, he almost always couldn't sleep when he was high, it was near impossible. He sighed, looking around the room, which was pitch black. He then looked around, hearing a familiar voice in his head, his mind palace. He blinked once and he was there, looking around for his brother.

"Mycroft! What do you want so late in the night, are you upset that your wonderful Diet plan isn't working for you?"

He heard his brothers laugh echo through his head as he looked around. When he looked around again he was in a sitting room, a fire lit and two chairs, one of which held his brother. Sherlock glanced down at him, walking over to take the seat next to Mycroft.

"Glad you could join me, I assume you know why I'm here?"

Sherlock scoffed. "Obviously not. What is it?"

Mycroft blinked. "Your love for John, obviously. You've been thinking about him a lot."

"Yes, thanks for informing me."

Mycroft didn't move as he continued to speak. "Right. Well, aren't you going to tell him? That you love him?"

Sherlock darted his eyes over to him. "No! Not now..I think he still hasn't fully forgiven me anyway."

"It wasn't your fault, brother mine."

Sherlock hummed in response.

They sat there for a while, watching the fire burn. Mycroft was the first to stand up, grabbing his cane and heading towards the door.

"Well, you've got some thinking to do, then? I'll leave you to it. I do hope you tell him, Sherlock."

As soon as the door closed behind Mycroft, Sherlocks eyes flew open, being pulled back into reality. John must've heard him because he groaned, lifting his face off his pillow and turning it to face Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" He groaned again, yawning.

"What are you doing, why are you moving around so much?"

Sherlock didn't know what to say, John was only inches from his face, he could feel his warm breath on his face. John smiled and shook his head, pulling away.

"Whatever, don't tell me."

Sherlock wanted to tell him, he could do it right now If he had the courage. He's never confessed his love to anyone before, Someone had once before but he was completely oblivious. Instead, Sherlock turned around, curling up into a ball not bothering to pull the covers over him.

"Maybe tomorrow,then?"

Mycroft's voice said, annoying him.

"Oh, shut up! I'll tell him when I'm ready."

Sherlock breathed in deeply, sighing as he looked over at John. He was the last thing he saw before his vision blurred, falling asleep.


End file.
